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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109676">Good Gracious, You're a Heart Attack</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakable_fix/pseuds/breakable_fix'>breakable_fix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanditon (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:21:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakable_fix/pseuds/breakable_fix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney thinks their reunion will be simple. Charlotte disagrees. Antics ensue. </p><p>AKA I just wanted to write Sidney as a complete fucking idiot</p><p> </p><p>**Currently undergoing a rewrite**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It seemed like a grand cosmic joke. There before him, knee deep in the icy sea water sporting nothing but her sheer white chemise, was Charlotte Heywood. She hadn’t noticed him yet, standing with her back to the shore. Her damp chemise hugged her backside, and if he were a better man Sidney would have looked away. But some combination of shock and arousal kept his gaze on her form. If Tom hadn’t told him that she was back, here in Sanditon, he might have believed that she was a phantom. A very lovely, very wet phantom. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What on Earth was she doing? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Curiosity out-won voyeurism. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Heywood?” He shouted over the soft crash of waves. She turned, surprised, and Sidney cursed inwardly. The sheerness of her chemise offered little decency. It clung tightly to her breasts, twisting around her narrow waist, stretching tight across her wide hips. She made her way towards him, wobbling slightly as the waves crashed against her calves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Parker,” she said when she reached him. His stomach tightened at the sound of her voice, slightly breathless, and still so familiar after all these months. She was flushed, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Heywood.” He repeated stupidly. He tried and failed to keep his eyes on her face. But her collarbones glistened with sea spray, attracting his eyes. Further down, her chest heaved slightly, her nipples taut against the cold air. His heart raced. She followed his gaze and glanced down at herself, eyes widening. She evidently had been unaware of the state of her chemise. They stared at each other for a breathless moment, before he remembered himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- Please forgive me-” he stammered, turning away from her. He was unsure of what was more unseemly- simply leaving her without explanation or staying until she had dressed. It felt wrong to leave her in such a state, all alone, soaked through. But if he stayed- well he wasn’t sure what would happen. Better to go now and preserve what little sanity he had left. He could explain himself later. But he’d only gone a few strides before she called out to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Parker!” She was at his side now, wearing her petticoat and wrapped in a shawl. Her stays and gown still lay on a rock at the shore. He grimaced, and rubbed a hand across his face. Somehow the sight of her half dressed and disheveled was worse than before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had no idea- Mary didn’t tell me you were in Sanditon.” She said sheepishly. He remained silent. Although he could feel her gaze on him, he kept his eyes trained on the ground, afraid of what he might reveal if he looked at her again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, I did not expect- How silly- Improper,” She mumbled, trailing off. A moment of tense silence passed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I-“ “How long-” They spoke over each other. Sidney turned to look at her, only to find her gazing out to sea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was only going to say, I suppose we’re even now.” She said flatly. He stared at the tender curve of her cheek, unsure of how to respond. He disagreed, but couldn’t convey that to her without revealing far more than was appropriate. She was referring to that morning at the cove, when she’d stumbled across him bathing. But at the time he’d only been a bit embarrassed, more for her sake than his own. She had meant nothing to him. She’d simply been an annoyance, pretty no doubt, but not worth his time. Now, though- now the situation held more gravity. He doubted he would ever forget the memory of her leaving the waves, a flesh and blood Venus. No, they were not even, could never be even. Seeing her again, in the state she was, he realized that Charlotte Heywood still wielded infinite power over him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long will you be in Sanditon?” He asked, voice foreign and desperate to his own ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A month at least.” She replied. “Until the Regatta, certainly.” He nodded, an urgent idea burgeoning within his chest. Damn the circumstances, he wanted her to know his intentions. He opened his mouth to share them, only to be cut off by her own question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Mrs. Parker with you?” She asked, her voice deceptively bright. She faced him, a false smile tightened across her lips. He blinked, confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mary?” He asked. Her eyes narrowed. He’d made a misstep, though he was unsure where. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your wife, Mr. Parker.” She replied, voice uncharacteristically cold. His heart stopped. She didn’t know. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You fool, Sidney.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He should have written to her, he knew it. But, it had all happened so quickly after her departure. It felt wrong to disrupt her life again, after all that happened. And anyway, he was certain that Mary or Georgiana would have let the information slip at some point. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no wife.” He said, “Mrs. Campion and I never married. The engagement was called off shortly after your departure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sidney had always considered Charlotte’s face quite expressive, but the range of emotions that flashed across her visage now was impressive, even for her. Anger, to confusion, to reluctant joy, back to confusion, back to anger. Then, rage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never married?” She cried. “Never- and you never thought- Mary, Georgiana, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one-</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought I might like to know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should have expected such a reaction, but his sense of her mind had inevitably diminished in her absence. He had hoped to rebuild his understanding of her intricacies, though her temper at the moment suggested it would be a difficult task. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me,” he said, “I felt it was indecent to contact you, considering how we parted.” She gaped. He’d forgotten the way her face looked when she was angry. Her pinched, indigent brow. Her rosy lips parted, as if in disbelief. Her dark eyes sharp. He’d forgotten how it felt to have that gaze directed towards him. Disquieting, painful- strangely exhilarating. Charlotte’s rage always felt like a call to action, a challenge. Only a coward would back down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For God’s sake, what would have had me do, Charlotte?” He said, her Christian name tumbling out without thought. Her eyes flashed with indignation- and something more. Desire? Regret?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should have thought you knew me well enough to know my strength. I would not have fainted from the knowledge.” She replied, voice dripping with derision. He scoffed, anger rising unbidden. It was so like her to turn what might have been a joyous reunion into a quarrel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah. So, tell me, should I have simply marched to Willingdon? Right to your father’s door?” He said without thought, “Hello, Mr. Heywood. I am the man your daughter has been weeping for since her return. I’ve only just recently broken an engagement, but I should like to marry your daughter instead.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He regretted the words immediately. Charlotte’s demeanor changed instantly, righteous confidence slipping, revealing utter dejection. She blinked rapidly, cheeks coloring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forgi-” He began quickly, but she held up a hand to silence him. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You forget yourself, sir.” She said, voice cold once again, “I must go. Good day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned to gather the rest of her clothes, then brushed past him in a silent blur. He simply watched her go, cursing himself to Hell. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlotte felt sick and it had little to do with her wet clothes. She knew she would have a reason to see Mr. Parker again, although she hadn’t expected to reunite so abruptly. And in her chemise no less. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goodness. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She should have known better than to undress in such plain view of any passerby. But the water had been so deliciously cold, nipping at her bare feet. She had wondered what it would feel like to immerse herself in it, not as she’d done so many months ago with Clara Brereton, but as an individual. Without all the fuss and fanfare. The way a man might bathe. The way a certain man </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>bathe. A strange desire for authenticity had overcome her good judgement. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> glad to be back in Sanditon, but it felt false and stifling at times. The sea offered an intrinsic sense of reality. And so she had removed her gown, unlaced her stays, and stepped into the waves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had promptly regretted her choice. A wall of water had crashed over her, soaking her head to toe. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even with the thin protection of her chemise, she froze instantly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How did he manage this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’d been frustrated at her frailty. What made her any different from a man? From Sidney Parker? The image of his bare form flashed through her mind and she blushed. Well, at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing made her different from him. And she supposed that his brawny, masculine shape kept him warmer in the cold water. All year she’d strived to avoid dwelling on that memory, but it often crept it’s way into her most private thoughts. It was tinged with a terrible melancholy- a sense of loss, of what she might have had. To think, she might have had an intimate knowledge of his body by now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, providence would have Mr. Parker discover her at this exact moment, lost in such sordid thoughts. She’d tried her best to redress the indecency of the situation, attempting to appear unbothered. But she hadn’t accounted for the sheerness of her chemise when soaked through. Mr. Parker’s dark gaze had alerted her to the situation, causing a wave of heat to race from her stomach downward. Embarrassment mingled with something dangerous and instinctual. She had sworn she’d seen something akin to fire in his eyes, the same gaze he’d given her just before that glorious kiss they’d shared. But when she’d returned to his side, wrapped in her shawl, he’d appeared just as distant and uncaring as a married man should have been. Their conversation had been stilted and awkward. She was mortified, both by the state he’d found her in and by his apparent disdain for her. She hadn’t expected his affections to remain unchanged, especially as she had urged him to love his wife, but she hadn’t expected to find him so completely indifferent. How strange that this encounter by the sea felt infinitely more disagreeable than their first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I suppose we’re even now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her attempt at levity had fallen flat. Mr. Parker hadn’t even bothered to answer her. Inwardly she had berated her boldness. No doubt he had come to realize that her brashness, which he might have once found charming, was in actuality an unattractive fault. She’d realized then that etiquette dictated she ask after his Mrs. Parker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mary? </span>
  </em>
  <span>At first she’d thought he was mocking her. She hadn’t wanted to think him capable of such cruelty, but she remembered the horrible way he’d rebuked her once. The truth was somehow more cruel. There was no Mrs. Sidney Parker. He wasn’t married. All the nights she had spent weeping on her mother’s shoulder had been for nothing. And while a small part of her felt an incandescent joy that he was unattached, the rest of her felt like the worst kind of fool. To have been kept in the dark for an entire year- it was infuriating. Why hadn’t he told her? A letter, a single word, anything would have been immeasurably better than a year of heartache. And so Charlotte had done what she did best; she had berated him. To his credit, Mr. Parker had responded with just as much fierce enthusiasm as he would have a year ago.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am the man your daughter has been weeping for since her return. I’ve only just recently broken an engagement, but I should like to marry your daughter instead.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His words had hit her like a physical blow. With them he had all but revealed to her why he never contacted her. It wasn’t out of a sense of respect, or even out of discomfort. He simply hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to contact her. He hadn’t wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What little was left of her fortitude had shattered and she had left him in haste, desperate that he didn’t see her cry. She had made it to the rise of the nearest hill, before collapsing in bitter sobs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Charlotte now found herself- damp, cold, and tear stained- attempting to head to her bedroom without interruption. She didn’t feel like explaining herself to Mary, who would immediately sense that something was amiss, or like listening to Tom, who would not sense anything at all. All she wanted was to strip down, remove that wretched chemise, and burrow into her bed. It was only early afternoon, and she knew she’d have to come up with a story for her behavior. If she were supremely lucky, she might come down with a fever from her frigid swim and be confined to her room for days. She lay on her back, blankets pulled up to her chin, and watched the shadows on the ceiling, trying to think of nothing and failing miserably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She woke up disoriented. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep, only to hide away for an hour or so. But her room was now bathed in a dusky blue, indicating it was early evening or early morning. Either way, she had been asleep for far too long. She dressed quickly. As she headed downstairs she determined it must be early evening from the warm glow and soft chatter coming from the drawing room. She paused before entering, running a hand over her face and hair, knowing that she must look frightful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah! Charlotte!” Tom called from the fireside. She wasn’t surprised to find Mr. Parker standing near him. He gave her a curt nod, face unreadable in the dim light. She returned the nod, but did not venture any further greeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mary was quite worried, my dear,” Tom continued, oblivious, “She is in the sitting room now with the children. Do go reassure her.” Charlotte nodded silently, slightly addled from her unexpected slumber.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are quite alright, aren’t you Miss Heywood?” Mr. Parker called as she turned to leave. Her stomach turned. Did he truly dare to inquire after her well-being after everything he’d revealed? Perhaps he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>mocking her this time. She squared her shoulders and addressed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thank you for your concern, Mr. Parker, but I assure you my wellbeing is none of your worry.” She replied as cooly as she could manage, though she could feel her cheeks heating just from looking at him. His face didn’t change, but she detected a slight shift in his demeanor. He nodded slowly, avoiding her gaze. Charlotte bolted from the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mary was glad to see Charlotte up and well. To explain her midday nap, Charlotte fabricated a story involving a long stroll, not enough breakfast, and too much sun. Mary fussed over her for a moment, before determining that Charlotte was perfectly healthy, if a bit disoriented. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sidney is here with Tom, did you see him?” Mary asked after they had settled. In spite of her calm, collected demeanor, Charlotte detected a hint of warmth behind the question. Dear Mary no doubt believed that she and Mr. Parker would reunite amicably, perhaps even renewing their intimacy. Charlotte’s chest tightened. She nodded in silent affirmation, attempting to keep her expression neutral. Sensing her hesitancy, Mary deftly moved the conversation away from Mr. Parker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Lambe is returning from London next week for the summer, is she not?” She said. Charlotte brightened. She had missed Georgiana terribly, and was eager to see her again. She would undoubtedly have a few choice words about Mr. Parker. Still, Charlotte was bothered that Georgiana had never mentioned his broken engagement. Perhaps she herself hadn’t known, though Charlotte found it difficult to believe Mr. Parker’s own ward wouldn’t be informed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I believe so,” She replied distractedly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear she is bringing a small party with her?” Mary continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, two gentleman and two ladies I believe.” Charlotte said. Georgiana’s last letter had described a businessman by the name of Mr. Hughes, his wife and sister, and his close associate Mr. Byrne. Georgiana had formed an intimate bond with Mrs. Hughes, a woman of French Creole birth, during the season in London. She had nothing but lovely things to say about the whole party. Charlotte knew that such an endorsement from Georgiana, usually so particular in her acquaintances, carried its weight in gold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How delightful!” Mary said, “It will be lovely to have Sanditon full of dear friends again. This winter has been quite dreary I’m afraid.” Charlotte nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I can imagine.” She said, thinking of her own pitiful winter in Willingdon. As she gazed at Mary, peacefully cross stitching, a strange agitation seized her. She could excuse Georgiana’s silence- she was not fond of Mr. Parker and therefore must have believed Charlotte better off without him. But Mary adored her brother-in-law as if he were her own blood. Wouldn’t she have wanted Charlotte to know of his misfortune? Unless- no she could scarcely believe such a thing. Could Mr. Parker have forbidden Mary from sharing the news? She racked her brain, thinking back to every letter Mary had sent over the course of the year. Had there been any evidence? Any small clue? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gracious Charlotte, your silence is deafening.”  Mary said, smiling affectionately, “Is there something vexing you?” Charlotte colored.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No- well, yes, I suppose,” She said, considering. Mary watched her closely, affection turning to worry. Charlotte sighed. “I fear I may appear imprudent.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my dear, we are far past imprudence, don’t you think?” Mary said, taking her hand. Charlotte nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well- I only wondered- I’ve just recently been informed of Mr. Parker’s-” She continued, struggling to find the words. Broken engagement seemed too harsh, unattachment too eager. “I’ve just recently been informed of Mr. Parker’s situation regarding Mrs. Campion.” Surprise flashed across Mary’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only recently?” She asked, “Whatever do you mean?” Charlotte stared. Mary must have thought she knew. Was that why her letters had been absent of the news? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I- Mr. Parker informed me only this afternoon.” Charlotte stuttered. Mary sighed and fell back into her chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good lord, Sidney.” She said under her breath. Then, straightening, she faced Charlotte again. “I must apologize Charlotte. I was under the impression you had been informed of the development. If I had known, please believe me, I would have told you.” Mary’s face was plaintive. Charlotte was relieved to know that her ignorance to the situation had not been some elaborate ruse, but rather a consequence of miscommunication. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You see, a week or so after he called off the engagement, Sidney told me he intended to write to you.” Mary continued, “I believed he had followed through. Although, in hindsight it does occur to me that you might have inquired after him in your letters if you had known. You see, I felt it prudent to allow you the chance to broach the subject, rather than press the issue myself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlotte nodded slowly. Her enmity towards Mr. Parker rose like a tide in her chest. It was so unbelievably cruel- to purposefully manipulate the situation in order to keep her in the dark. And for what? Did he truly regret their intimacy that much? Fresh tears pricked at her eyes, and Charlotte colored. What a silly, foolish girl she was. She had spent the winter struggling to extinguish any girlish naivety, hardening her heart and cultivating an air of sensible womanhood. But it felt as if all her work had been for naught- she was as heartsick and defeated as she had been a year ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see,” She said, voice thick with unshed tears. Mary kindly looked away as Charlotte wiped surreptitiously at her cheeks. After a moment, Charlotte resumed the conversation surrounding Georgiana, hoping to lay the matter of Mr. Parker to rest once and for all. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ooooooh boy my favorite fanfiction trope ~~~~~~M I S C O M M U N I C A T O N~~~~~~~~~~ lolol enjoy</p><p>also: thoughts on OCs? I felt like Georgiana needed some cool friends, but I don't really write OCs, so idk how they will feature in the story. I do think I'll include our pals Babbington and Esther at some point, but I like to think they're always off jetsetting across Europe so idk. Oh and possibly Stringer, but he's over Charlotte now, cuz that would just be TOO complicated. Let me know your thoughts!! I live off of feedback!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>so basically sidney is A Dumbass. stupidest reason not to tell charlotte i know. and don't worry, lady susan's involvement will be further explored later.</p><p>i was gonna post this as two separate chapters but then i was like... nah. enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Charlotte!” Georgiana cried out gleefully, startling the two ladies sitting on either side of her. Charlotte beamed. She had missed Georgiana’s boldness. Without her around Charlotte often felt like a great, impudent fool. But Georgiana never cared if Charlotte talked too loudly or voiced an uncouth opinion. She was refreshing in a way Charlotte had never experienced. And after spending the week fretting over her encounter with Mr. Parker, Charlotte was eager for an afternoon of reconnecting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you!” She said, sinking into Georgiana’s quick embrace. As they broke apart, Charlotte took in the room. Georgiana and her party had secured lodging at the new hotel and Charlotte had yet to see any of the rooms. The salon was lovely and fresh, if a bit boring. It was not the grandest room she’d ever seen, and no doubt not the grandest quarters Georgiana had ever occupied. Still, the party seemed to have brought an air of warmth to the space. As she looked around it occured to Charlotte that she didn’t actually know how Tom’s debts were paid. Tom had occasionally mentioned his </span>
  <em>
    <span>affluent lender</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though never by name, and foolishly, Charlotte had never thought to inquire further. She silently reprimanded herself, vowing to correct her ignorance at the next available opportunity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, sit,” Georgiana said, gesturing to the chaise lounge she had risen from. Once she was settled with a cup of tea, Georgiana began introductions. Mrs. Adeline Hughes sat to their left. She was a lovely woman, with an olive complexion and dark eyes. She smiled widely at Charlotte, taking her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Georgiana has told me so much about you, I feel as if I know you already!” She said. Her voice was deep, with a bare hint of an accent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I you, Mrs. Hughes. Georgiana has written of you often.” Charlotte replied, happy to find Mrs. Hughes so like Georgiana’s descriptions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if we are already such good acquaintances, I must insist you call me Adeline.” She said. Charlotte smiled and agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miss Fanny Hughes sat to their right. She was a girl of Charlotte’s age, though that was where the similarities ended. Miss Hughes had a soft, round face with large blue eyes and fair hair. Despite herself, Charlotte felt plain and tawny in comparison. This contrast was not improved by Miss Hughes’ disposition. If Charlotte hadn’t already been informed otherwise by Georgiana, she might have thought Miss Hughes’ terribly rude. In fact, the girl was simply terribly shy. She smiled and asked after Charlotte’s health and that was the extent of their interaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon was spent in much needed frivolity. Georgiana had a great number of stories to tell of London friends, old and new, often reenacting her encounters with over-exaggerated gestures. Charlotte sensed a subtle change in Georgiana, a new air of contentedness. The Georgiana she remembered from a year ago had been often consumed by despondency, giving her humor an edge of meanness. Now though, Georgiana had a brightness in her eyes and a ready smile. Though she still ridiculed nearly every acquaintance she alluded to, she did it with a warmth and amusement that indicated she truly cared for whomever she was speaking of. Charlotte was pleased with the shift in Georgiana’s temperament, though it did make her yearn to visit London herself and become acquainted with the characters from Georgiana’s stories. This led her thoughts inevitably to her time in London with Mr. Parker. Everything was still so vivid- the stark contrast between the dark alleyways and the glittering ballroom. The way her opinion of him had so drastically changed in only a day. Had she been foolish to fall so easily? She’d wondered as much a million times over the course of the year. Was one dance really enough to sway her heart? But he’d done so much more than just make her feel beautiful and desired. Saving Georgiana. Allowing her to say goodbye to Otis. And later, the way he’d apologized for his previous behavior, the way he’d confided in her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am my best self, my truest self, when I am with you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Fanny and I were going to meet Frank and Mr. Byrne for a walk along the coast.” Adeline declared, startling Charlotte out of her reverie. Miss Hughes seemed slightly surprised by this announcement, but rose anyway. Adeline gave Charlotte a warm, maternal smile and professed a desire to see her again soon. Charlotte agreed. She sensed that Adeline had noticed her sudden reticence and figured she would like to be alone with Georgiana for more intimate conversation. It was a rather forward gesture, but Charlotte was getting the sense that despite her boldness, Adeline was a truly considerate person. She suspected that the woman had very much to do with Georgiana’s change in spirits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How goes things going between you and Sidney?” Georgiana said the instant the ladies had exited the room. Charlotte considered asking her why she had never told her of Mr. Parker’s broken engagement, but decided against it. It was clear from her tone that Georgiana still had a distaste for her guardian, which was answer enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Terribly, if I may be so bold.” Charlotte replied, “In fact, I never want to be near again.” Georgiana laughed. </span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe that might be difficult considering you are living with his brother.” She said. “Although, I must say I am surprised to hear you speak of him so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Charlotte replied. Georgiana nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truthfully, I imagined you might soon be engaged.” She said. Charlotte gaped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Engaged? To Mr. Parker?” She said. Georgiana made a noncommittal gesture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I understood him wrong, but it seemed to me that Sidney intended to pursue you once his connection to Mrs. Campion had been severed.” She said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m afraid you must be mistaken,” Charlotte said, “I have little doubt that Mr. Parker has no affection towards me whatsoever- he’s said as much himself.” Georgiana’s brow furrowed, but she made no move to contradict Charlotte.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you say as much it must be so,” She said, “I daresay it does not surprise me. Sidney is as much of a twit as he ever was.” Charlotte agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of twits,” Georgiana continued unprompted, her voice strangely animated, “I’m eager for you to meet Mr. Byrne.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And why is that?” Charlotte asked. Georgiana had said little about Mr. Byrne in her letters, though she had been acquainted with him nearly as long as with the Hughes. What little she did mention was usually very mean, something about his funny hair or his odd manner of laughing. But seeing the way Georgiana talked about him now made Charlotte believe there was more to their relationship that Georgiana had let on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is a very peculiar man,” Georgiana continued, “He’s Irish you know, and very political.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How interesting,” Charlotte supplied, though Georgiana needed little encouragement to continue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is only three and twenty, and yet he has the grandest plans.” She said, “He’s a businessman like Hughes, though nowhere nearly as successful. Anyone can tell as much from just a glance at his jacket.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Intriguing.” Charlotte replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon was spent thusly, with Georgiana listing all of Mr. Byrne’s many faults, most of which Charlotte thought were very trivial. Georgiana’s chattering didn’t bother her though- she knew what it was like to have affections for someone despite your own best judgement. And furthermore she’d missed her friend dearly. She’d listen to Georgiana recite a laundry list if it meant she was in her company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgiana returned to Sanditon with her party in tow. Sidney had briefly met Mr. and Mrs. Hughes during his last visit to London and had found them amicable, if a bit bold. Mr. Frank Hughes was a man of considerable wealth, come by through trade, though Sidney wasn’t privy to the details. Tom was eager to make an acquaintance with Mr. Hughes, hoping to find a final investor to fully recoup the loss they’d suffered a year ago. While most of the debt had already been paid down by Lady Worcester, the resort still remained in the red. And so, a small dinner was arranged for the evening following the party’s arrival. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sidney arrived early, hoping to catch a moment alone with Charlotte. She’d avoided him like the plague for the last week. He knew he deserved her coldness but it was becoming difficult to explain the severity of her avoidance to Mary. Even Tom was beginning to suspect something was amiss between them. The situation reminded him of the antagonistic early days of their acquaintance. It was worse than those days though- Sidney hadn’t cared what Charlotte thought of him then. Now though, he was driven to distraction daily just thinking about her. Would she hate him forever? Could she ever trust him again? The nights were worse. He now had a knowledge of her body that should have been reserved to her husband. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Husband. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He cursed himself. If he hadn’t been such a fool perhaps he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>be her husband by now. Instead he had to satisfy himself with conjuring hazy images of her at the shore, her hips and breasts, her bright, sharp eyes. And then inevitably there was guilt in the aftermath, guilt at debasing her image so pathetically. Guilt at how carelessly he’d handled their reunion at the shore. Guilt at never sending that letter. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He recalled Lady Worcester’s last words to him, nearly a year ago now. Sidney had stood witness as she and Tom finalized their contract. Seventy percent of Sanditon’s debts would be paid, in exchange for twenty percent stock in resort revenue and a small portion of executive control. As she signed, Lady Worcester had glanced up at Sidney.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Mr. Parker, I must say, I do hope to see Charlotte happily wed in the very near future. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her words, said with such careful nonchalance, had made him freeze. Charlotte, wed, in the near future. He racked his brain. He’d been unaware of any previous attachment before her arrival in Sanditon, and it had only been a month since her departure. Was it possible she could have formed an attachment with somebody new so quickly? Then he’d remembered how rapidly their own acquaintance had progressed. His heart sank. He’d foolishly believed his window to regain Charlotte’s affections was wide open. Lady Worcester said nothing more, though she did give him a curious glance as he simply nodded, too stunned to reply. When he’d returned to his lodging in London and saw the unfinished letter he’d addressed to Charlotte, he poured himself a large glass of whiskey and tossed the parchment into the hearth. And so, when Tom told him that Charlotte was back in Sanditon and made no mention of an engagement, Sidney had allowed himself to hope. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His task this evening had a level of urgency he’d been developing for a week and one year. If Charlotte was in fact unattached he would not make the same mistake twice. He’d not only rectify his behavior at the shore, he’d also make her aware of his unchanged affections. After saying hello to Tom and the children, Sidney went straight to Mary to inquire after Charlotte’s whereabouts. Naturally, he found her in Tom’s study, bent over some plans. He paused, suddenly unsure of his task. Charlotte was most beautiful in movement, but in still concentration she had an air of serenity that was captivating. Her dark brows furrowed, her soft bottom lip held between her teeth. Sidney cleared his throat to alert her to his presence. She was smiling as she looked up, no doubt expecting Tom, but when her gaze landed on him her mouth fell into a tight frown. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think of the new plans?” He asked, careful not to rush ahead of himself. She regarded him with a calculating glare, but she answered him openly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe Tom has yet to learn a lesson in frugality,” She replied. He smiled in spite of himself. She continued frowning. “I remember a time when you did not take kindly to my opinion of your brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, as do I,” he replied, coming further into the room. He stood opposite her, leaning against the back of the chaise. “However, I did not know you then as I know you now.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>At his words, a faint hint of color bloomed on her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. He sensed an opportunity. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“May I speak candidly?” He said. Her frown deepened. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt you could have anything to say to me that would require such a preface.” She replied, turning to gaze at the darkening night outside the window. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I simply wanted to apologize for our encounter at the shore this week.” He said. She nodded, slightly, in acknowledgment or acceptance he was unsure. He continued hastily, “And Charlotte I-” At his invocation or her name her gaze shot back to him.  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Heywood, please,” She said. He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Heywood,” he amended. Her gaze on him was exceptionally fierce; he stood and paced to avoid her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“At the shore, I spoke without thought,” he continued, “No, no, let me rephrase that. I realize my behavior was crude. But please believe me, the words I spoke, though rash, were representative of my true feelings.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte was silent for a tense moment. Would she be joyful? Would she still share his affections? Sidney hadn’t thought this far ahead. He paused in his pacing, glancing back at her. To his surprise, she looked rather ill. He reached out to soothe her, only to have his hand swatted away. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are making this far more difficult than need be,” she cried, “I knew you capable of callousness, though I must say this is unprecedented.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Heywood- I-” He began, desperately trying to determine the source of her discomfort. But she broke in before he could continue. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> may speak candidly Mr. Parker- I wish to put any memories of our intimacy in the past,” she said, venomously. He blinked, completely bewildered. Another strained moment passed before Charlotte turned to leave. She paused before she reached the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
“Perhaps that way we may someday be friends.” She said softly, not bothering to turn back and face him. Sidney’s heart sank. <em>Friends. </em>Of course. She was still connected with the man to whom Lady Worcester had alluded. That explained her distance since that morning at the shore. He had all but announced he would like to marry her. And now here he was trying to pursue her like nothing had changed. <em>Idiot. </em>He collapsed into a chair, craving a drink, and remained there until Tom came to fetch him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. *ANNOUNCEMENT*</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, after a few days of agonizing over this story, trying to shoehorn things in, and attempting every possible ending under the sun- I've decided to rehash the entire thing. I was totally writing this on the fly, without a clear arc in mind, and it shows. As someone who takes great pride in their writing, I just can't stand leaving this story so jumbled and unedited. I doubt I'll be making any HUGE changes; just tweaks here and there to make the story more plausible and seamless. I'm planning on deleting this work once I've reuploaded the new version. I know it's sort of... unprofessional? To retract something I've already published, but hey, this is fanfiction and the internet so anything goes. I hope that if you've enjoyed the premise of this story so far you'll stick around to read the tighter, more thought-out version. Thank you all for your kind words and feedback thus far, it's been so helpful and fun to see your reactions. I want to give you guys something that I can be proud of and that you can fully immerse yourself in without questions hanging over your head. </p><p>P.S: I haven't decided whether I'll post the revamp in installments or as a whole finished piece yet. What do you guys think? Are ya'll even still interested? If I do installments I'll probably have the first chapter up sometime next week. If I do the whole shebang I'll probably have it up in the beginning of April.</p><p>P.P.S: I have a shorter piece almost finished and I'll probably upload that tomorrow or Tuesday, so if you need a Sidlotte fix soon, be sure to keep your eye out for that. Also, be warned... it's fairly risque ;)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>:)))))))))))))) writing this as a prayer to the TV gods for a season 2 :')))))))</p><p>more chapters at some point in time idk</p></blockquote></div></div>
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